


my tears ricochet

by vanderlindemorgan



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanderlindemorgan/pseuds/vanderlindemorgan
Summary: "You had to kill me but it killed you just the same"This wasn't the first time he'd visited the ruins of the Baudelaire mansion. It was, however, the first time he'd seen her there.
Relationships: Violet Baudelaire/Count Olaf
Kudos: 14





	my tears ricochet

This wasn’t the first time he’d revisited the ruins of the Baudelaire mansion. In the year or so since the tragedy, he’d made it a point to visit several different times, each time boasting to himself of how perfectly executed the plan had been, and in bitter memory of both his fallen enemies. Olaf remembered it like it was yesterday - the strong scent of kerosene that followed him as he dumped the contents of the bottle over the floor of the library, the small weight of the matchbox in his palms when he struck it, and how in only a few moments, the entire mansion had gone up in flames.

He’d planned it all perfectly. Exact his vengeance on two of his greatest foes, trick the bumbling banker into allowing their children into his custody, and steal their enormous fortune in plain sight through means of theatrical production. In doing so, he not only gained a vast sum of money to his accounts, but also a pretty little orphan as a wife. 

She never came with him in the past when he’d gone out to visit the charred remains of her home. Why would she? The thought of even stepping foot in such a place, the memories of a better life before her permanent imprisonment at his hands was too much for her. In fact, Olaf didn’t think she even knew he came here. 

Though she’d never vocalised it, he could tell that Violet always held the suspicion in her heart that he’d been behind the fire that had destroyed her entire life. It only made sense, after all. Though what mystified him, was her own pliance to his will. She’d buckled easily under him, with the threat of harm to her bratty siblings forever looming over her head. After their marriage had been finalised and the fortune secured, Olaf had allowed the banker to whisk away the boy and bitey baby off to a foster home. Despite his threats to the contrary, he simply had no interest in dealing with them any further from that point onwards. The money was his, anything further was unnecessary, unless they became a problem. 

They hadn’t, surprisingly enough. He hadn’t seen any trace of the two siblings for about a year. 

He cut the engine of his car and removed his keys from the ignition, strutting out of his car with ease. The burnt wreckage of the Baudelaire mansion lay before him beyond a set of wrought iron gates. After marrying Violet, he’d also acquired ownership of the estate, and despite the city council’s pressure to remove the wreckage, he’d kept it as a sort of sick trophy alongside his blushing bride. Now, with one prize gone, this was the other remnant of his success.

Stepping amongst the burnt debris, Olaf thought back over the past year, and everything that had transpired. After months of marriage, and avoiding him at every turn, Violet had started to draw herself nearer to him. He thought it odd at first when she no longer scurried away at his presence, or when she’d started to sit with him in the evenings for a glass of wine. He figured at first she was probably lonely, and looking for any sort of human connection, even if it was with someone she loathed. He hadn’t expected it to go any further than that. 

“You shouldn’t be here”.

The sudden arrival of her voice shook him slightly, though he brushed off and kept himself composed, turning to see the figure of someone he’d swear to never see standing before him again. 

“Nice to see you too, orphan” Olaf sneered, only regarding her with a slight turn of his head towards her. She was standing only a few feet away from him, still wearing that turquoise dress with shell prints - the one he’d bought for her, and the one she’d taken her last living breaths in.

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was incensed, glowering at him from a safe distance. “So, how are you enjoying my parents money? I hope it hasn’t ran out for you yet” she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“On the contrary, Baudelaire, my money hasn’t even begun to deplete itself” he smirked, loving how annoyed she got whenever he claimed ownership of her fortune. She was always so easy to wind up. 

Glaring at him, she started to drift closer, heat rising in her cheeks. “You couldn’t have just let me go, couldn’t you? It was already bad enough enduring a year of marriage with you, but for what you did…”.

“You know perfectly well, orphan, that if I had set you free you wouldn’t have come back. I wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t threatened to do countless times over” he scoffed. “Besides, throughout that year you seemed to _endure_ me quite well…”.

Violet’s glare intensified at that comment, her eyes shooting daggers. He could have sworn that he saw blush creeping at the edges of her cheeks. “What else was I supposed to do? I was all alone, you were the only person I had to talk to...of course I was going to become lonely and confused…”.

“Oh, come on, don’t lie to yourself. You’re saying that every time you fell into my bed, every time I threw you against the wall, you weren’t even a little bit attracted to me?” he prodded, causing her to seize up slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why did you need to keep me anyway? You already had the money. I just wanted to see my brother and sister, was that really too much to ask of you?” she hissed at him, hoping to vere off the subject of her own supposed attraction to him. 

Olaf raised his brow at her. “I think you already know the answer, Baudelaire”.

“No, actually, I don’t. Why don’t you do me a favour and elaborate?”.

He sneered at her, pushing past her ghostly spectre to the front of the lot, descending down the ashen remains of the front steps. As much as he wouldn’t want to admit it aloud, he had grown rather fond of her in their year of marriage. He’d always found her pretty, but after a few months of drinking and rough sex, he’d found himself to enjoy her company. Though he’d kill himself before admitting it to her. “Because, you were my wife. I held onto you for so long so I could ensure that the entire fortune would be settled into my accounts. But now, as far as I’m concerned, you’re dead to me. Both literally and figuratively” he jeered at her, lying through his teeth. 

If she was corporeal, Violet would have slapped him for that. She instead settled for a piercing death glare, which didn’t seem to have the desired effect on Olaf as he just smirked at her with that frustratingly devilish smile of his. “If I’m really that dead to you, then why am I here?”.

“I don’t know! I didn’t exactly ask to see you” he threw up his hands in frustration. “Why don’t you go haunt your annoying siblings? I don’t need the ghost of some snotty self-righteous orphan on my back”. 

Violet’s voice faltered slightly, tears already pricking the edges of her lashes. “It doesn’t work like that, I can’t control any of this. If it was up to me I wouldn’t even be here” she explained.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them for a few moments, neither wanting to say a single word. Olaf directed his gaze at the ground, seeing the dust and lingering ash covering his worn out shoes. For all of her beauty, she could really be an exasperating person to be around, with all of her damn questions and hangups surrounding morality. Deep down he knew it was unfair of him to deride her in such a way, though he wasn’t known for being reasonable or nice, and he wouldn’t still apologise in any way for his snide remarks. 

Finally, Violet broke the silence, twisting her hands over each other and refusing to look up at him. He could see her eyes were puffy from her crying, though her tears were no more real than the rest of her. The harder he looked he could see the marks around her throat from where his hand had been, the sight of which unexpectedly struck him. Flashbacks started creeping of that fateful day when he’d caught her trying to pick the front door lock, a small bag of clothes and other essentials tossed around her shoulder. She’d cowered before him, and he’d wanted to set an example of what happened when she disobeyed him. 

When he’d thrown her up against the wall, hands grasped around her throat, he’d delivered several cutting remarks, hoping to make an impact to her. Regrettably, she hadn’t gone quietly after that, kicking against him and screaming about how much of an awful person he was. Subconsciously, his grip tightened the more she’d talked, and in the heat of the moment he lost it entirely, only coming to the realisation of what he’d done when her legs fell limp and her gasping breaths had stopped. 

The change in demeanour was fleeting, and soon after he had recomposed himself, throwing back on the facade of indifference. “Do you regret what you did to me?” she whispered.

 _Yes_. “No” he lied. 

She was beginning to fade slightly, her time left in this world no doubt beginning to run out. Part of him couldn’t wait to get rid of her. But another part of him wanted her to stay, snatch her back up in his arms like he’d done so many times before and carry her off back to his manor, feeling her heartbeat through her small chest. To touch her one last time. But it was too late for that, far too late. 

“Olaf...did I really mean that little to you in the end?”.

To that, he had no answer for.

**Author's Note:**

> this song has been in my head for a week so of course that meant I had to write about it


End file.
